It's A Love-Hate Relationship
by I Am The Groovy Mutation
Summary: Well, this is just a telling of the life of Simon Snow. It's about his adventures at the Watford School of Magicks, and his relationship with Baz. This is my take on it, at least. I might interpret the characters a little differently, and will probably have to add in quite a few OCs. But here it is.
1. Arrival

When Simon Snow was accepted to the Watford School of Magicks, he couldn't have wished for anything better. It was most definitely a turning point in his life. But there was one problem. It came in the form of black hair and dark eyes. It came in the boy glaring at him across the room, absolute loathing emanating from him. Baz.

His skin was pale. Cruel, but beautiful. He was a little bit intimidating in that way, but Simon wasn't daunted. Baz had an aura about him that made you want to pick a fight with him. The first thing Simon managed to say was,

" _You're_ my roommate?"

"No, I'm just here to enjoy the scenery." His voice was sarcastic. Simon scoffed, and then checked himself. He was supposed to be friendly. It was a bit hard to do when your roommate was unnecessarily hostile, but he had to try. He had to be the better person. So he held out his hand.

"I'm Simon. Simon Snow." Then he winced as he realized not only that Baz probably already knew this, but also that Baz ignored his outstretched hand. After a few seconds Simon tried to inconspicuously pull it back, acting like it was no big deal, when he accidentally knocked a candle over. Baz quickly caught it and placed it back where it came from. He regarded Simon for a moment.

"Don't kill yourself before I get to know you. Actually, I don't care to know you. Do whatever you want, so long as you don't bother me." Baz frowned and considered for a moment. "As a matter of fact, it's too late for that. The sight of your face is repulsive." Baz turned and continued unpacking his things. Simon followed suit. The silence in the room was growing heavy. Simon felt suffocated. He distracted himself by putting as much focus as he could into each object he pulled out of his bag. His piggy bank. His desk lamp. His teddy bear. He felt foolish about bringing that after meeting Baz.

While Simon was distracted, Baz looked him over. His hair was a light golden brown which would have sparkled if there was any sunlight in the room. His face was perfectly shaped, and he had the bluest of blue eyes. Baz couldn't find any major physical flaws with him. Great. He was going to be stuck with a pretty boy for the next 8 years. Before Baz could look away Simon glanced up, but quickly looked away, embarrassed. This was going to take some getting used to, this whole roommate thing. They could already tell that they weren't going to get along.

Simon took a deep breath. He already felt out of place here. Where it seemed like he couldn't say a word. Where even if he did no one would acknowledge it. He walked over to his bed, which faced Baz's, and pulled his sheets over it, placing his pillows and blankets on top. He'd figure out the details of all that later. Glancing back at his bag, the teddy bear looked forlorn and alone. He shook his head. Baz couldn't think he was soft. As he placed his lamp on his desk, he noticed that Baz was turning his bed away so that it now faced the wall. Friendly person, that guy Baz.

Seeming satisfied with his handiwork, Baz gave Simon a sly smirk. Simon did his best to ignore it. Not knowing of anything else to say, he asked,

"What time do we need to be ready for dinner at?" Baz scowled.

"Hour." Far too long. Simon decided now would be a good time to leave the room. As he got up, Baz perked up a bit. "Where are you going, Snow?" Simon shrugged, not entirely sure himself.

"Don't worry, I won't be back any time soon."


	2. Friendly Neighborhood Redhead

Simon tried not to slam the door behind him. It was already becoming difficult to keep his cool around Baz. He couldn't let Baz have that kind of control over him. Slowly, he walked down the hallway towards the commons. His chest was bursting with anticipation.

It wasn't that Simon was socially awkward. That was more like Baz. Simon just wasn't entirely sure where he was supposed to be. He was also a little unnerved at Baz's lack of enthusiasm. What if everyone else was like that, too?

Voices could be heard further down the hall. Simon tried to get a good look at the common room before he threw himself into the midst of it. There were a few couches and chairs arranged throughout the room. Several candles illuminated the room. It was cozy.

Simon must have looked a little lost, because before he had been there a minute, a hand wrapped itself around his and pulled him to an empty part of the room. He followed the line from the wrist, along the arm, and up to a face. It was a girl with curly red hair and green eyes that were speckled with gold. She wore a green cloak with the hood down.

"Hi! I'm Penelope." Her smile was insistent, as if she had already asked him his name without using words.

"Uh...h-hi. My name's Simon. Snow." A spark of recognition flowed through her, as if she felt she might know him, but it quickly passed.

"So, are you excited? Because I am incredibly thrilled to be here! I wonder what the teachers will be like? What are we going to be learning? I bet we'll get to turn people into toads!" She continued rambling in this manner, answering her own questions before anyone could get a word in. Simon had already decided that he liked her. Maybe this year would be bearable.

A blond girl shouted from across the room. "Penny! What did you do with my wand?" Penelope pulled a wand, which Simon assumed belonged to the blond, out of a pocket inside her cloak so that only Simon could see. She grinned.

"I don't have it, I promise!" In that moment she handed it to Simon. "Don't let her have it!" She hissed under her breath.

"What?!" Simon exclaimed. Not knowing what else to do, he held it up as the blond girl approached. "Umm... Yeah. This is yours, I believe." She grabbed it from his hand and glared at Penelope, who was frowning at Simon.

"You ruined it." He wasn't entirely sure what to say to that, given that whatever he did he would have disappointed one of them.

"This is my roommate, Agatha, by the way." Penelope added as an afterthought. Agatha nodded in Simon's direction. Then she joined Penelope in an animated conversation about one thing or another. While Simon liked both of them, he didn't feel like he really belonged there at the moment. He was grateful when the clock finally struck 6:00, and students began making their way to the dining hall.

For a second Simon almost expected to see Baz somewhere in the crowd. Undoubtedly Baz was here, but the odds of Simon running into him were slim. He followed Penelope and Agatha.

"Snow." He felt himself being dragged backward by his scarf. "Your face is messed up." Simon didn't have to turn around to know who it was.


	3. Orientation

"Baz, let go!" Simon protested.

"That would be too easy, wouldn't it?" He didn't have to look to know that Baz was smirking. It was already obvious that Baz was going to control a lot of things. Though Simon struggled, Baz's grip was like iron. The only reason he didn't give up was because he didn't want to give Baz even more satisfaction. He figured he should at least look like he wasn't helpless. Truth being, of course, that he was. Baz knew it, too.

Simon might have appreciated the scenery on the way down the hallway a bit more if he wasn't being dragged along by Baz. Even in the state he was in, though, he couldn't help but admire the way the candles were arranged. Shadows played across the walls. It was as if the light was dancing. Not only were the candles placed spectacularly, but they were lit with a purple flame. There were also several windows at regular intervals along the wall, but the sun was no longer up.

At long last they reached the dining hall. The ceiling was high, with several chandeliers dangling from it. It was a grand place, with a sort of golden aura about it. There were several long tables arranged in rows, with all sorts of delicacies set out on them. Baz finally let go of Simon's scarf. More like threw him down. It was all Simon could do to not collapse on the floor. Anger flooded through him.

Before Simon could sock it to him, Baz had already slipped away, laughing at the way Simon's cheeks were flushed. He thought it was kind of cute.

Simon quickly spotted Penelope a few feet in front of him, and sat down next to her and Agatha. Something told him he shouldn't mention his issues with Baz. He didn't have to say anything anyway, Penelope was already chattering enthusiastically.

"Oh, isn't this place just beautiful! Look at the crystals on the chandeliers. This whole school is so... vintage!" Agatha rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Well, most people our age don't really like... _vintage_." Simon had to agree on that point. Vintage seemed a bit sophisticated. Sophisticated didn't seem much like Penelope. It was day one and she had already surprised Simon more than once. Who knew what she had in store for the next few years?

"Whatever." Penelope struck Simon as the kind of person who didn't care a bit about what other people thought, yet somehow she was still like-able. Unlike Baz. Why did so many things have to come back to Baz? Simon began shoveling food onto his plate. He was starving.

Agatha looked over his shoulder. "Roasted quail?" She inquired.

"I guess so." Simon replied. He hadn't actually been paying much attention to what exactly he was eating.

"Huh." Agatha mused. Penelope leaned over to whisper in Simon's ear,

"She seems to be struggling with things that aren't mainstream." Simon shrugged. " _You're_ definitely not mainstream. That's why I like you." She smiled. Simon wasn't entirely sure what made her think that, but he smiled stupidly at the compliment anyway. Looking up, he noticed Baz sitting at the next table over, looking bitter. There were people around him, but he wasn't talking to any of them. For a split second Simon felt bad for him. There was no one like Penelope around for Baz. But the feeling was quickly gone as he was drawn back into the conversation.

"So, what are you most interested in learning this year?" Agatha addressed him. He considered for a moment.

"Pyromancy? I don't know. I'm just going to do the best I can in every subject and discover my interests as I go."

"I want to turn people into toads!" Penelope blurted. Which made them laugh, since Penelope was the opposite of those warty witches in the fairy tales. Simon found it fascinating to watch the wrinkles by Penelope's eyes when she smiled.

"Oh my gosh, you two should totally be a couple!" An older girl shouted from across the table.

"Shut up, Natasha!" Penelope snapped. Simon immediately noticed the likeness between the two girls. Natasha's hair was a similar shade of red, but the true resemblance was in the face. Their faces were similarly shaped, and they had the same sparkle in their eyes.

"Are you two sisters?" Agatha asked. Natasha made a dismissive gesture.

"Nah, we just look alike. People make that mistake all the time. I've known Penelope since we were babies, so, what, 11 years?"

"I'm 12!" Penelope punched Natasha's arm.

"Same difference. Anyway, I'm sure you heard that my name is Natasha, but what you didn't know," She paused for dramatic effect. "Is that I go by Tasha." She said it as if it was a shocking thing.

"Plot twist," Agatha muttered under her breath. Simon couldn't help but chuckle. Then, loud enough for everyone to hear, "So, how old are you?"

"Fourth year. So... 14." She giggled. "I almost forgot my own age!"

"That would have to be at least the third time," The boy next to her teased. "I'm Alex," He addressed Penelope and her friends. "You guys are going to love it here."

"You two should totally be a couple!" Penelope blurted, gesturing between Alex and Natasha. He considered for a moment.

"You shouldn't be a matchmaker."

"What?! I would be-"

Suddenly, the lights dimmed. Everyone turned their attention to the figure standing at the front of the dining hall.

"Welcome, to the Watford School of Magicks! As many of you have already guessed, I am the Mage, headmaster of the school. I am happy to announce that this group of first years is one of the best we've seen in years. Every single one of you is full of untapped potential. But do not let us get ahead of ourselves. Ah, first things first, let me introduce this years new teleportation teacher, Professor Leroux!" A middle aged man came to the front, to a polite clap from the students. He gave a small wave, and adjusted his glasses. Once the clapping died down, he returned to his seat among the teachers.

"Now, I expect that most of you already know how things work here at Watford." A slight pause. "At least, I would _hope_ so." This earned a bit of laughter from some of the older students. "But for our first years, I'm going to go over the basics again.

"You are expected to be in the dining hall by 8:00 every morning for breakfast. Your first class will start at 8:30. Lunch happens at 11:30, after the first 3 periods of the day. Classes continue from noon to 3:00. Dinner will be at the same time it was today. Curfew is at 10:30. Please be the best version of yourself every day. We don't expect you to have an easy time with any of this right away, but we do expect to see improvement. And be kind to your peers. You guys are mature. It's not that hard to figure out." If Simon wasn't a good-natured person, he would be glaring at Baz right now. "If you have any questions, you can always ask an older student." Natasha smiled and winked. "Now, if you'd like to head back to your rooms, your schedule, as well as a map of the school, will be waiting for you. Best wishes to you all! You are dismissed." There were several cheers among the students.

People began rising from their tables, and rushing back down the hallway. Simon was determined about one thing: Baz wasn't going to ruin his experience at Watford. With that thought in mind, his chin lifted and he strutted confidently towards his room. What could Baz do?


	4. Let's Agree to Disagree

Back at his room, Simon found that Baz was already there, looking over his schedule. Without a word, Simon approached his desk, where the papers were waiting. Eager to look at his classes, he snatched them up.

1\. Teleportation - Leroux

2\. Elemental Magic - Garcia

3\. Potions - Blooming

4\. Hexes - Foxx

5\. Numerology - Meyer

6\. Arts of the Mind - Moreno

Baz looked over his shoulder. "Crowley! 4 of my classes are going to be tainted by your presence." Simon jumped in surprise.

"There has to be a mistake."

"I'm stuck in bloody elemental magic, potions, numerology, and arts of the mind with you." With each class Baz listed his voice got a little bit louder, and a little bit more irritated. As for Simon, he was extremely put out as well. He had hoped that his break from Baz would be during the school day, but it seemed that there wouldn't be much relief. Baz's witty sarcasm would follow him everywhere.

"I didn't ask to be stuck with you, either." Simon retorted.

"Are you sure you didn't fall for my winning personality?" Baz was sour.

"You're impossible. No matter what I do, you're always going to hate me."

"Don't tell me you're just now getting this."

"I'm surprised I didn't smell your negativity before I got here. You reek of it."

"And you reek of roses." Baz snorted with distaste.

"Maybe this is a test. Maybe we're supposed to try to get along." This was going to be Simon's final attempt at peace. Baz snorted again.

"Or maybe it's a way to keep our enemies close."

"Fine." Simon turned to where his books were stacked. Students were required to purchase their textbooks before they arrived. If any ordinary person had seen the titles of these books they wouldn't have taken them seriously. _Numerology 101-The Relationship Between Numbers and Magic, Curses & Charms, Teleportation for Dummies, A Beginner's Guide to Potions, Communication Without Words, _and _Applying the Elements to Daily Life._ He began absently flipping through the pages of _Curses & Charms. _Baz had already resolved to do anything in his power to make Simon's life miserable. As of now, it was probably perfect. Someone had to be the opposition. Baz figured it was his job. Besides, countering people was his specialty. And Simon annoyed him so bloody much for no obvious reason; he had to do something to even it up. So if they were to be enemies, it was a good thing that Simon was right here, where Baz could watch him.

Without a warning, Simon got up. Baz followed him out of the room, curious to see where he was going. Simon ignored him, but he also didn't object. In a few minutes they stood before the door to the Mage's office. Simon hesitated for a moment. Baz shoved him forward. The Mage looked up as the door swung open. He peered at them through his glasses for a moment.

"Yes?"

"Um, is it possible to request a room change?"

"That hasn't happened for over 50 years."

"Right, but that doesn't mean it's not possible, though?" Simon could still hope.

"I would advise against it."

"What if I still choose it?" Now he was on the verge of being obstinate.

"Then I say no." Simon was about to back down, but that was when Baz spoke up.

"Please, sir. I can't stand him, and he can't stand me. Separating us would be the only way to stop us from eventually killing each other. Probably sooner than later. And honestly, I would like to keep my life. I'm rather fond of it."

"Why?" Simon snapped.

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about!"

"Hmm..." the Mage considered. "You know there's a saying, about befriending your enemies." Simon was about to object, and explain that he had already tried that route, but he was quickly silenced when the Mage held up a finger. "You two are going to have to learn to get along. It's an important life lesson."

"But-"

"No 'buts'. You're stuck with each other. End of discussion." Baz's face turned a completely different shade of red. "Basilton Pitch, don't even think about it. You wouldn't want to pick a fight with me, would you?" He hung his head in a dismissive gesture. "Good. Now run along. It's getting to be time for bed." Baz was the first one out the door. Before Simon could leave behind him, the Mage motioned for him to stay a moment longer. "If you ever have serious issues with Baz, you can talk to me about it." There was warmth in his voice. Simon nodded.

"Yes, sir. Thank you." The Mage nodded. Simon left, slightly perplexed, but also grateful.


	5. First Day

After a sleepless night, they were woken by Baz's alarm clock. Simon choked back laughter when he recognized "Boogie Wonderland". Baz glared daggers at him, and slammed his fist onto the clock. It continued to ring.

"Bloody thing," he muttered, eventually unplugging the cord. They had a silent agreement that Simon wouldn't mention this to anyone, otherwise Baz would probably kill him, if he wasn't plotting to do so already. Simon flung the window open, and the light that flooded into the room nearly blinded Baz in his tired stupor. As Simon went to grab his robes, he noticed an instrument case lying on the floor next to Baz's bed.

"What is that?"

"A viola." Baz said it as if it was a normal thing. It might have been, for anyone but Baz.

"You play the viola?" Simon was incredulous.

"I saw your teddy bear, so I wouldn't be so open-mouthed right now." That made Simon shut up. It also, in his mind, gave him an invitation to put his teddy bear on his bed. Since Baz already knew about it, there was no longer any justification necessary for having it. He smiled as he lifted it out of his bag and placed it among his pillows. Baz shook his head.

It only took them a few minutes to get dressed and pack their things. They needed their wands, books, a map, and writing materials. Not wanting to spend any more time in the room than necessary, Baz was quickly on his way to breakfast. Simon didn't linger long, either.

Breakfast was very similar to dinner the previous night. Alex and Agatha were having an in-depth conversation on the importance of spoons, which would have been interesting, but Simon was a bit distracted. He noticed that while Baz still had the look of death, he was the center of attention of a group of people. It seemed that he would have several devoted followers. Simon was thankful that he already had friends who would stand by him if he needed them. And there was also the Mage.

After a plate of eggs, waffles, and bacon, Simon felt more enthused. He was awake. As the dining hall began to clear, Penelope approached him. Alex and Agatha were still talking about spoons.

"You're in my teleportation class, right?" Simon nodded. "Well then, I am going to walk with you." As if it needed to be said. In an alternate universe, Penelope might have been annoying, but right now, Simon appreciated the sound of her voice. He wouldn't be surprised if all the "friendly" had been extracted from Baz and put into Penelope. "I'm actually a bit worried." She frowned. "Like, what if I mess up really really really badly and end up stuck in a wormhole or something? I'd be known in the history books as 'Penelope, the kid who didn't reappear.' That'd be embarrassing."

"You'll be fine." Simon wasn't sure how to comfort her, but he figured he'd try. Agatha caught up to them, and freed Simon from having to think of what to say next.

"I'm pretty sure there wouldn't be wormholes involved in teleportation, anyway. It won't involve traversing between point A to point B. The process is probably more like dematerializing for a split second and rematerializing somewhere else. So if you did mess up, you wouldn't be stuck in a wormhole, you would probably be dead." She said it so matter-of-factly.

"Not helping."

"I'm just getting technical here. But don't worry, Penny, you got this."

"Besides, if someone messes up, it will probably be me." Simon pointed out. Agatha nodded. He might have been offended, except for the fact that he had only said that for Penelope's sake. Before Agatha could make another comment that worried Penelope infinitely more, the door loomed ahead of them. Agatha was the only one who seem unfazed, blonde hair swishing behind her. At least Baz wasn't in this class.

Agatha chose a seat in the very front of the room. Penelope sat next to her. Reluctantly, Simon followed. Of all the places she could have sat, why did Agatha have to choose the front? He pulled out his copy of _Teleportation for Dummies_ and tried to look attentive. Professor Leroux came to the front of the room.

"So, welcome to the first day of teleportation. Without further adieu, let's get started. What exactly _is_ teleportation?" A girl in the middle of the room raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Brooks?"

"A form of transportation."

"Excellent. Broken down to its core, that's all there is to it. The art of teleportation, however, isn't in achieving the end result so much as perfecting the process which leads to it. This process is going to involve two things. Strength, and focus. You don't have to worry about the first bit yet, that will be developed over time throughout all of your classes. Focus, however, can be looked at now. The brain, like any other part of the body, can be trained. I'd like everybody to take a deep breath." The room was filled with the sounds of inhaling and exhaling. "Now, close your eyes." Simon felt a little silly doing this, and he didn't seem to be the only one. Several giggles were heard throughout the room. "Focus." Leroux reprimanded. It immediately got quiet. There was an air of command about him, like he had to be obeyed.

"Feel your inner being. Relax, so that you feel nothing but peace." Contradictory to what Leroux had just said, Simon thought of Baz. He was going to struggle today. The rest of the class period followed in this way. When the bell rang everybody rushed to the door. Once they got into the hallway, many of the students started making fun of Professor Leroux. He was a bit strange. They had spent an entire class period meditating. Or something like that.

/

The first thing Simon noticed when he entered Professor Garcia's room, a little late since he had gotten lost in the hallway, was Baz. Looking sullen in the corner. The second thing he noticed was that the only empty seat was right next to him. Simon sighed.

"Ah, there you are, Simon! Do come in!" Professor Garcia said cheerfully. He walked dejectedly towards Baz. At least Professor Garcia seemed nice. He had a feeling he was going to like her. As he was sitting down, she began to talk about the history of elemental magic.

"I was hoping you wouldn't show," Baz whispered.

"Deal with it," Simon gritted his teeth. Even though he could have argued with Baz for an eternity, he knew it was in his best interest to pay attention. So he tuned in to what Professor Garcia had been saying.

"Elemental magic is the art of harnessing the forces of nature to do your bidding. There are many different types, but the major ones are fire, frost, earth, and wind. We're going to cover a little bit of each this year, and in your later years you can begin specializing in more difficult types. Today we'll start off really basic, by lighting up the tips of our wands." Many people perked up a little. "I want each of you to hold your wand in front of you like this," she held her wand upright, with the tip at about the height of her nose. The students emulated that. "Now, I want you to imagine that your wand will do anything you tell it to. You're going to focus, and mentally send it the message to light up."

Baz didn't have too much trouble with this spell, but it took Simon a bit longer. Of course he had to deal with Baz's taunts as well.

"Snow, you're a hopeless cause." Simon ignored him. "No, seriously. I would help, but I don't want to affiliated with you in any way."

"Then quit talking to me." Baz's face twisted with rage.

"This spell doesn't take much power, so you should all be able to manage it after a few attempts," Professor Garcia was encouraging. Simon concentrated. The tip of his wand sparked, then flickered to life. He sighed with relief. Had he failed to accomplish this task, Baz wouldn't have let him hear the end of it. The room sparkled with light as students practiced this spell until the bell rang.

"No homework tonight. I want everyone to be ready for harder work tomorrow!" Garcia shouted after them as they exited.

/

Potions. Simon didn't know much about them, but found that the class was decent. It involved a lot of mixing, and allowed no room for careless mistakes. A few students had blackened faces or frizzy hair-tokens of errors they had made. Baz watched him through the entire period, continuing through lunch.

As Simon made his way to hexes, he was glad that Baz wouldn't be there. This was one of two classes where he could get a break. Professor Foxx ended up being quite the unique individual. He started the class by giving each pupil a list of everyone in the class. Then, based solely on looks, they had to write what animal suited each person. According to Professor Foxx, "Simply winning is not enough. You have to win in style. Therefore, when you curse someone, you have to make the curse fitting." After a slight pause he added, "Plus, comic relief." Some students laughed nervously. This guy was weird. He seemed to be in his upper thirties, yet his hair was a bright orange color. It was just a bit out of place, at least in this instance.

When Simon looked at Penelope's paper, he saw that she had written 'toad' next to everyone's name, with a serious answer in parentheses next to it. After everyone had turned in their papers (Professor Foxx wanted to examine "The ideas of an 11 year old mind") there was still some time left to discuss the difference between a curse and a charm.

"While both could be used to accomplish the same end goal, a curse is done with ill intentions towards the person (Or, in some cases, thing), and is possibly a negative reflection of their personality (Only if you win in style, as we previously discussed). Arguably yours as well, depending on what context it's used in. Charms are usually more goodnatured. At least in the actual casting of them. It's possible that a charm could be used for an evil purpose. It can be a positive reflection of someone's personality. I'm babbling, aren't I?" No one knew whether to agree or disagree.

"Basically, charm=good, curse=bad. Meaning good and bad for the person (Or thing) it was cast on. No matter what it's good for you. Which brings me to my next point: When you use charms and curses, you need to have an end goal in view. The charm or curse that you cast should be the right one for achieving this goal." Most of the students absently blinked. A few nodded.

When class was dismissed about 12 minutes later, their heads were swimming with the confusing mixture of words Professor Foxx had used to explain things.

Numerology passed without consequence. Unless you counted the feel of Baz's gaze on Simon's back. It made his heart beat faster, both from feeling slightly afraid, and also slightly self-conscious. It was hard for Simon to explain; he just _felt_ it.

The entire hour of arts of the mind, Simon felt a bit strange. Thankfully, Marie (She insisted that they call her by her first name) only talked about the history of her subject, so they didn't have to concentrate on anything. Simon would have been relieved when the final bell rang, but instead, he dreaded facing Baz. The first thing he did when he got back to their room was complete his numerology homework. It was a simple worksheet, full of basic arithmetic with a slight twist. Then he looked through his potions book. He found the section on herbs to be rather interesting.

By the time Simon realized that Baz had copied his answers to the numerology worksheet, he was almost too tired to care. Almost.

"Why can't you do your own homework?" He demanded.

"What?"

"I said, why can't you do your own work?"

"You said, 'Why can't you do your own _homework?_ ' Not _work._ " Simon made an exasperated gesture. He was _this close_ to throwing something against the wall. "What?" Baz smirked. He liked to see Simon agitated. As for Simon, he could have burst into flames just then. Instead, he actually did throw something against the wall. Only after he threw it did he realize that it was his teddy bear. His face flushed an even deeper shade of red.

Baz casually picked up his viola and played random classical music until it was time to go to bed. As Simon tucked himself in, Baz said,

"You know I could kill you tonight."

"You could."

"Sweet dreams, Snow."


	6. Bad Guys Can't Be Good

Simon was starting to settle into the rhythm of life at the Watford School of Magicks. He didn't struggle in any of his classes. He had friends. The only problem was Baz.

One fine autumn morning, he was out with Penelope and Agatha, wandering around the school grounds. It was a Saturday, so they didn't have any classes that day, and they had finished their homework on Friday night. That left them a lot of time to kill, so they figured they'd explore the gardens a bit. The leaves on the trees were various different colors. Bright red, dark red, a crisp golden hue. Some even had a twinge of green leftover still.

Simon's scarf seemed to float in the breeze. It was refreshing to be outside. The gardens were an explosion of color, even at this time of year. Tiny white flowers dotted the landscape, dashed with blue and purple specks here and there. Some rose bushes were miraculously still in bloom, their sweet scent drifting towards Simon. Wisteria covered the sides of buildings and gates, allowed to grow wherever it wished. Hydrangea, ivy, poppies - it was all here. Yet there was a structure to it. While the entire garden was full of life, nothing grew in the way of something else. It was the perfect balance between too much and too little.

"What did you guys think of Professor Foxx?" Agatha inquired, seemingly innocently. The three of them burst into laughter. It didn't have to be said that they all thought he was a little strange. Simon spoke up,

"I do enjoy his class though." He found it a bit hard to keep a straight face, even though what he said was the truth. Agatha made a face.

"How so?"

"Baz isn't there," he replied simply.

"Ah, right. You're not faring so well with him, are you?"

"That's an understatement."

"If you need to talk, we're always here for you," Penelope piped in. She couldn't help herself, and added, "But you two are totally in love." An excited gleam flashed in her eyes. Simon stopped dead in his tracks. He examined the moss that covered the stone path and knitted his brow. Had she really just said that? He took a deep breath and did his best to keep his voice level.

"What?"

"He likes you. He's probably just pretending that he doesn't." Simon shook his head.

"No, no, that's not it at all. He really does hate me. It's the most honest, legitimate hate, and it comes straight from his heart. His very being emanates it, because that's what he wants it to do. And I hate him too - with a burning passion."

"I think you're mistaking love for hatred. You _love_ him with a burning passion."

 _I guess no one said love was rational,_ Simon thought. He didn't know why he thought it. Maybe liking Baz was close to one of the least likely things to happen, yet still not entirely impossible, but if that was case, he hadn't fully acknowledged it until now. Or maybe it was just the first thing that popped into his head, and he thought it would sound dramatic if it was said, though it wasn't quite the truth. Instead, he merely replied with,

"I don't." Agatha, looking a bit uncomfortable, decided to change the subject.

"Look at that pond." They approached the clear, glassy water. It looked as if the pond was glazed with light, because of the way the sun reflected off the surface. Peering into it, they found that they couldn't see the end of its depths. They couldn't fathom them, either. It was amazing, yet none of them could place exactly why. Finally, Agatha spoke.

"It has no end." She was awestruck. A raven landed on a branch next to them.

"Caw! Caw!" They gave a start when it spoke. "The river's run dry, and it met its doom, but it left its blood to reflect the moon. In the dark so black that it must be night, when the moon stays shining oh so bright. Jump into the pond by the grass's side and a secret you might find." With that final word, the raven flew away. There was a moment of silence in which each of them stood perplexed, not because the raven had spoken, but because of what the raven had said. Eventually, Penelope spoke.

"Well, _somebody's_ a bit over-dramatic. He, or she, or... _it,_ could have just straight up told us to dive into the pond. None of this riddle-y nonsense."

"At night. We're supposed to dive into the pond at night," Agatha added.

"Close enough. Anyway, I'm naming that bird Tweety." A delighted smile crossed her face.

"So... it's a boy?" Simon inquired, wishing he had said something more intelligent. Among things of much more interest to discuss, he hadn't managed to vocalize one of them.

"Actually, that's debatable-"

"It doesn't matter," Penelope interrupted Agatha before she could go off on one of her spiels. "Are we going to explore that pond or what?"

"I'm in," Simon agreed immediately, intrigued by what the raven could have been talking about.

"Count me in as well," Agatha sighed. "What am I getting myself into?" she muttered under her breath. Then, louder, "Human curiosity must be insatiable. But I suppose this is for the better. Why else would that bird have talked to us?"

 _"Tweety,"_ Penelope corrected.

"Let's be practical about this, though," Agatha frowned. "We're going to need a way to reach the bottom of that pond, and it doesn't look shallow."

"I'm pretty sure the library will have even more books about charms. There should be a spell for underwater breathing somewhere. Or maybe a potion." Penny twirled her fingers through her hair absently. "It shouldn't be too hard."

 _It shouldn't be too hard._ Baz scoffed from his hiding place in the bushes. They had failed to account for him.

/

That night, in the light of the moon, Baz watched Simon sleep. The rising and falling of his breathing was almost meditative. Several times Baz's gaze flickered over Simon's eyes, peacefully closed, and down his jawline, the creases in his face becoming ever more prominent the more he studied them. In that moment, Baz wished he could be like Simon. He wished he could sleep in a room with someone who despised him, yet sleep soundly all the same, fearing no evil. Not even the evil within himself. Because there was no evil in Simon. Baz felt, for occasional fractions of seconds, terrible for being the stem of his and Simon's rivalry. He felt like the bad guy.

He was _this close_ to being regretful that he and Simon weren't allies. Friends, even. But how could that come to be? Good people like Simon weren't friends with the likes of Baz. Simon was at peace with himself. Baz wasn't. Baz was in the middle of a mental war, in which there was no good guy. The shadows within him twisted him into a wretched being. It was possible that Simon could save him. Baz was tempted to let himself be saved.

But the desire wasn't overpowering yet. He still felt that hatred for Simon. The only difference was that now he wondered if that hatred was jealousy in disguise.


	7. The Most Important Meal of the Day

It was 3:00 in the morning. The floorboards which would normally have creaked made no sound under the feet of a magician. He slipped through the door and merged with the shadows. An eerie light was cast through the glass walls of the library. Combined with the deathly silence of the hallways, it made him feel exposed. But that was ridiculous. There was no reason for anyone to suspect anything.

Making no sound as he glided across the floor, he soon arrived in front of the right bookshelf. Running his finger along the rows of books, he read each title individually until he found the one he was looking for. _Physical Ability In A Jiffy: Just Use Potions._ Gently, he tugged it free, but not before he rolled his eyes at the title. A lock of black hair fell into his face. He blew it away. The pages rustled a little as he turned them, eventually arriving at a potion for underwater breathing. He muttered an incantation, and the words faded and rearranged themselves. Satisfied with his work, he slid the book back into place and made his escape.

/

Monday came sooner than expected. Everyone was feeling a bit sluggish, that is, with the exception of Penny. She sat down ecstatically at breakfast, pulling something out of her satchel.

"I found the perfect book in the library yesterday! _Physical Ability In A Jiffy: Just Use Potions!_ I love that title, by the way." Simon leaned over to get a better look at it, and was aware of Baz's glare as he did. "Any-who, there's a potion for underwater breathing. It'll last for 5 hours if we do it right!"

"Fantastic!" Simon couldn't have wished for anything better.

" _If_ we do it right," Agatha pointed out.

"We'll do it right," Penny insisted. Agatha, ever the practical one, continued,

"We're going to be busy this week, how about we go on Friday?" Penny shrugged. She didn't really care, so long as they solved the mystery at some point. Sooner was better than later, but she figured it wouldn't be that big of a deal to wait a few extra days. It would be worth the wait, however long that may be. They turned to Simon.

"I don't see why not," he agreed. Agatha wasn't quite finished.

"Penny and I will brew the potion Thursday evening, since it needs to simmer for a day. Then we'll meet up in the gardens at midnight." Penny choked back laughter. "What?"

"It's just funny, cause midnight is so cliche. But it works."

"So, are we all agreed?" Agatha asked.

"Agreed," they affirmed.

"Now would be the time when we do our awesome super secret handshake, but we don't have one, so... that's disappointing." Penny was clearly dejected. "We're going to have to make one."

"Later," Agatha quickly said. "We should be getting ready for first period." Before Penelope could argue, she stood up and started walking back to their room. Other students had begun to get up as well. Penelope shot up and ran to catch up to Agatha, giving Simon a slight wave as she left. After sitting for a few moments, Simon pushed himself up, and was immediately aware of Baz's breath on the back of his neck. He stiffened. It was a cold kind of warm which sent shivers up his spine. No matter how hard Simon tried, he just couldn't find it unpleasant. He struggled more than he should have to remember how to breathe. Careful not to seem bothered, he simply said,

"Baz." He focused his gaze on the opposite wall, his eyes like lasers that bore into the pictures hanging there. After a moment of silence long enough to make Simon unnerved, Baz finally spoke.

"You better watch your back, Snow."

"Well, I can't right now, because you're there. I don't want to look upon your sullen face." Baz started laughing hysterically.

" _You_ don't want to look upon _my_ face? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"What is it with you and making a point of telling me how awful my face is?! I don't see anything wrong with it!"

"Of course you don't _see_ anything wrong with it, you idiot, you're not standing in front of a mirror."

"How often do _you_ look into a mirror?" Baz seemed surprisingly unaffected by this comment. He threw his head back and gave a quick bark of laughter, as if he knew something Simon didn't.

"Snow, you'd be surprised how many times I've looked into mirrors and seen nothing. I'm used to it by now." Simon, instead of immediately suspecting that some form of trickery was involved, felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He quickly killed it. "Don't be late," Baz said, walking off. "But as you know, I don't really care. I'm not sure why I keep bothering to tell you."

Simon was slightly confused when he realized why. It was because this was the only way Baz was allowed to address Simon. It was the only way he could know him. Kinda sorta. It was iffy. But it was still a connection. And Baz had never wanted to completely sever it.


	8. Telepathy!

Tuesday was a fairly regular day. At least that was what Simon thought until 6th period. He reflected grimly on the fact that you can always speak too soon. The moment Simon entered the room, he could sense a slightly more energetic air about it. It _felt_ like something momentous was going to happen. Looking around at the other students, he noticed that he wasn't the only one. It was as if the whole class had collectively perked up.

Especially Marie. Her curly black hair bounced with every step she took, and for the first time, Simon saw a glimpse of her younger self. Even so, she still projected wisdom and experience throughout the room. She just seemed a bit brighter today.

Most of the students had filed into the room several minutes early, but Marie waited in friendly silence. None of the students were speaking. Usually they would have appreciated starting class late, but today there was an air of anticipation in the classroom. They watched the hand of the clock tick by. Eventually the bell rang and Marie spoke.

"Today is going to be a little different." Her eyes scanned the classroom. "We're going to work with partners. By that I mean that we are going to truly test the limits of our skill. This will be your first taste of what the arts of the mind are like applied in the real world." The sound of muffled whispers could be heard around the room. Before anyone got too excited, however, Marie continued. "The only stipulation is that _I_ will be choosing your partners." Several shoulders sagged.

 _Okay,_ Simon thought. _28 other students in this room and only one of them is Baz. There's only a 1/28 chance that he'll be my_ _partner._ Marie began walking around the room, naming partnerships as she went. Seeing Baz's disgusted look, he knew what his fate was even before Marie came around to him. After hearing the inevitable "Baz," he reluctantly made his way to where Baz was seated, making a point not to look at him. This was just his luck. Once everyone was situated, Marie demanded the classes attention.

"I'm assuming you all would like to know what we're doing today." She raised an eyebrow. Heads bobbed up and down throughout the room. "We've learned about ways to communicate with other wizards using telepathy..." she paused for dramatic effect. "We're going to try to apply them. I want you and your partner to attempt to have a conversation without using your voices. Remember the things we discussed in class, such as focusing your energy, being deliberate, and staying strong. Start off small, with single words, and gradually work your way into more complex language. Don't forget that you'll need to work together." Simon and Baz glared at each other. Baz's expression alone told Simon exactly what he was thinking. Neither of them wanted to make the first move, so they sat there, stone cold, until Marie lightly tapped Simon's shoulder. He immediately sat up straighter.

"Right... okay, so..." Seeing that Simon was making progress, even if it was minuscule, Marie continued on her way. "Look," Simon started again, "I don't want to work with you either, but we have to accomplish this. Might as well just get it over with." Baz gave him his signature scowl. Realizing that Baz wasn't going to give him any form of acknowledgement, Simon decided to get on with things. He concentrated all his thoughts on sending a message to Baz. The idle things swirling around in his brain immediately froze and formed together for a new purpose. Simon's head felt like it was being pushed on from every direction.

"Trying a bit too hard, are you?" Baz taunted, shaking his head. "You're too weak. I guess _I'll_ have to be the one to compensate for it. Lovely."

Simon did his best to ignore Baz's words. It wasn't like Baz could do any better, right? Well, he probably could. But Simon was still capable, and now was the time to prove it. His mental ability was at its peak, and at long last, he uttered the word: _"_ _Hope."_ Simon didn't know why he picked it. It just seemed right.

For a glorious millisecond there was a look of shock on Baz's face, but he quickly concealed it.

 _"What?"_ Baz spat, easily picking up on telepathy. He was obviously more powerful than Simon, and he knew it.

 _"Hope,"_ Simon insisted, feeling a bit ridiculous.

 _"Hope? There's no such thing."_

 _"Maybe for the likes of you."_ Simon found that this was getting easier as he went along. Besides, arguing with Baz was almost second nature to him.

 _"Shut up,"_ Baz retorted bitterly.

 _"Anything for you, Baz."_

 _"Do you not know what 'shut up' means?"_

 _"Evidently I don't."_ It felt good to finally have the last witty remark with Baz. This was probably a once in a lifetime occurrence. As for Baz, he was positively fuming inside, wracking his brain for a comeback. He had to content himself with saying,

 _"You were hit in the head with a rock as a child."_ If Simon wasn't good-natured he would have said that obviously Baz was not only hit with a rock, but whacked with a baseball bat and dropped down the stairs seventeen times.

Looking at the clock, Baz saw that there were about 2 minutes left of class. Students were beginning to stand up and congregate by the door. He stood up, but before he left, he added one final thought: _"Oh, Snow... I truly feel sorry for you sometimes."_


	9. Wreck the Halls

The time of year for holiday festivities was coming around again. There was talk that none other than the Mage himself would give a prize to the most well decorated Christmas tree, there was talk of mistletoe, and there was talk of evil spirits that only left their hiding places at this time of year. Whatever was being discussed, the hallways were buzzing with excitement. The smell of candy canes and hot chocolate was in the air, and first year students marveled at the delicacies available in the wizarding world. Fireplaces glowed with warmth, and there was anticipation for snow.

It was a fine Thursday evening, and Simon was huddled cozily under his blankets. He would have been in the commons, but Agatha and Penelope weren't there. Instead of feeling anxious about tomorrow, he tried to remain calm by becoming absorbed in a book. He had already finished his homework. There was an aura of homeliness about the room, the dim light of the candles illuminating every surface with varying amounts of light. He was just beginning to relax when Baz walked through the door.

At first Simon was doing a fairly good job of ignoring him, but as soon as Baz grabbed his viola and began improvising in a seemingly random manner, Simon couldn't help but be a bit annoyed. When he restarted reading a paragraph for the fifth time, he spoke up.

"Do you mind?"

"Mind what?"

"I'm trying to read."

"You're _trying._ Sorry you're such a dimwit." Simon's face turned beet red.

"Stop telling me you're sorry when you're really not."

"Sorry," Baz smirked, still playing haunting notes on his viola. Simon's feeling of calmness was officially gone now. Christmas was approaching, yet Simon still could not get a break from Baz.

 _Isn't it the season to be jolly? Aren't people supposed to spread holiday cheer?_ Simon thought bitterly to himself. Which gave Simon a bright idea. He _could_ spread holiday cheer! Only a few seconds elapsed before he was out the door and walking briskly through the hallways, determined to bring his morale back up. As soon as Simon stepped outside he was hit by a burst of crisp, cold air. He illuminated his wand tip and made his way to the forest by the edge of the school. By now the deciduous trees had lost their leaves long ago, and looked kind of haunting when their twisted, gnarly branches were exposed. Simon ignored them, focusing his attention on the beautiful evergreens instead, which had lost none of their color. He deliberately cut branches off of the trees, magically growing them back as he went. When he figured he had a sufficient amount of greens, he turned back towards the school.

Many people gave him questioning glances as he walked to his room. Simon couldn't blame them; he was sure he was quite a sight to see. A first year student sinking under the weight of several boughs of pine, fir, and other trees of the sort. Not to mention the fact that he didn't have any way of utilizing magic to carry the branches for him. Though he hated the revelation, his skills in magic were fairly limited.

It was a bit cumbersome to open the door since he had to set his load down in order to free his hands. If he had been skilled enough at casting spells without a wand he would have opened it with magic. In the state he was in, however, he had to use physical means to accomplish the task. It was a bit embarrassing for him, and he hoped that no one had seen. He looked around and noted that Baz was no longer in their room. His viola was set carefully on his bed. Simon couldn't help but wonder what sort of mischief he was making. Carefully, he made his way to his desk, and set the branches in a heap on the floor. Simon took a deep breath. It was time to begin his work.

He clipped the branches into little pieces which he put together to form bundles. Skillfully he began weaving the bundles together. He wasn't sure how he knew how to do this, he just did. As he went, he would periodically seal the greenery together with magic to ensure it didn't fall apart. Just as Simon had settled into the rhythm of wreath making, he heard the door open. He knew it was Baz. Under normal circumstances, he would have ignored him, but since it was that wonderful time of the year, he decided to give Baz a cheerful "Hi." Like usual, Baz ignored him. Simon refrained from sighing. He didn't know why he still tried to be nice. But he didn't see himself stopping any time soon.

Without a word, Baz walked sulkily towards Simon's desk and grabbed one of the branches that was set next to it. Simon peeked out of the corner of his eye to see Baz's baleful look.

"This is stupid," Baz remarked.

"Go away," Simon retorted. He didn't need Baz's pessimistic mindset polluting his Christmas spirit. Baz answered by hurling the branch at him. It hit him square in the face. Simon noted the smell of fresh pine before throwing a branch back at Baz. It seemed like Baz hadn't expected this response, but it was clearly what he had been hoping for since a malicious smirk crossed his face.

"You throw like a girl," he commented. Simon replied with another airborne branch. Baz laughed, completely unfazed. Simon knew he was giving Baz what he wanted. He knew he was simply fueling the fire, but he figured that Baz's anger would turn into a raging inferno no matter what he did. He might as well defend himself. Or attempt to, at the least. Before he could think better of it, he threw another branch. And another. Even though he put all his strength behind his throws, Baz still hit him harder. It became a flurry of flying foliage, Simon attempting to duck to avoid the stinging sensation of being hit, and Baz seeming not to care, laughing at Simon's inadequacy.

Any outsider witnessing the unfolding of this fight would have thought it petty, and that was exactly what the Mage thought of it. It would have been easy for him to intervene, but he thought it best to let things play out the way they would.

Though Baz's laughter was spiteful, laughter is still contagious, and before long Simon was laughing too. His laughter was more light, like bells ringing through a gentle breeze. It grew out of his control, and pretty soon he fell to the floor in a fit of giggles. At first Baz was confused, then angry, and then…. He wasn't sure. Maybe it was numbness, or pity. Maybe it was surprise. Maybe he actually _cared._ Whatever the reason, Baz didn't strike Simon again. He just observed. There was a slight spark in his heart, but it was quickly gone.

Simon gave Baz a curious look. He didn't know what had caused this change to come about. "There's sap in your hair," he said, bursting into laughter once again. Instead of the usual dark look, or salty remark, Baz simply raised an eyebrow.

"I'll fix it for you," Simon said, and on a spontaneous whim he sprung to his feet and tackled Baz, running his fingers through his hair.

"Get off!" Baz grumbled. Simon kept giggling, clinging resolutely to Baz, who was thrashing about and trying to throw him to the ground. Baz let out a yell of rage, partially because Simon was annoying, and partially because he was finding it difficult to remain annoyed. There was something about Simon's childish behavior which, by some miracle, wasn't aggravating. They fought there for a few minutes as boys usually do, unaware that the Mage had been watching the entire thing, and now had a smile on his face at the way they were getting along. If indeed that was what they were doing.

Finally, Simon gave up and let himself collapse on the floor. The full realization of what he had just done came a few seconds later, accompanied with an expression of pure shock. Baz was infinitely stronger than him, and should have been able to easily throw him off. It was more than a small wonder that he didn't. While Simon silently pondered this, Baz sighed and brushed himself off indignantly. Simon knew he shouldn't try to mess with someone as cold and serious as Baz. He also knew that if he could go back in time and change his actions, he wouldn't. There was something satisfying about annoying that villain, even if Simon would have to pay with his life someday. He would probably pay with his life simply because he was unlucky enough to know Baz. _Oh well,_ he figured. _You can't argue with fate._

/

While Simon and Baz were discovering things about themselves, Agatha and Penelope were testing their skills at brewing potions.

"No, no, the toad eye goes in last!" Agatha exclaimed. Penny froze, dangling the toad eye slightly above the boiling cauldron.

"Oh. I thought it… Oh." She put the eye back into the jar that Agatha had stolen from Professor Blooming just a few hours earlier. They had spent the entire week gathering herbs from the gardens and the woods by the school, taking bundles sparingly in order to avoid seeming suspicious. There was the slight possibility that it had all been in vain due to Penny's naturally suspicious demeanor.

Agatha sprinkled a bit of pixie dust into the cauldron and looked to the book for the next ingredient. She kind of wondered at the fact that there would be pixie dust in an underwater breathing potion, but then dismissed the thought. Penny was making herself useful by sorting through all the plants they had picked up while absently stirring the cauldron. Agatha glanced over several times to make sure Penny wasn't messing anything up. She knew that Penny was aware that this was an important business, but it never hurt to be too careful.

"You know, I kind of feel sorry for that toad who had to get slaughtered so that we could brew a potion," Penny remarked. "I ought to start a toad's rights movement." Agatha smiled. Only Penny would think of something like that.

They were already over halfway done with the potion. Agatha was already getting anxious about how events would unfold on Friday (Technically very early on Saturday morning). Penny was also getting butterflies in her stomach, and Penny rarely got nervous about anything. They would have to stay focused and hope for the best.

/

 **A/N: Hey, so I haven't read** ** _Carry On_** **yet, but I plan to after I finish this fanfic since I want to keep my writing and interpretation of the Simon and Baz universe consistent. At the time when I started writing this** ** _Carry On_** **hadn't been released yet. Just in case anyone who has read** ** _Carry On_** **sees things about this fanfic that don't match up with that book. Also, I'm sorry I don't update very often, but I promise that I will finish this story eventually. I suffer from writer's block nearly all the time, so if anyone has ideas or things that will inspire me to write, I'd love to hear them :)**

 **And yeah, it might be a bit late for a holiday related chapter, but it took me longer to edit than I thought it would, haha.**

 **Thank you all,**

 **Emily**


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